Gift Horse
by AnonM1ss
Summary: Sometimes timing is all it takes to change history. Ichigo defeats Ulquiorra to reach a dying Rukia, surrendering control to his hollow. This deviation changes fate since the hollow demands compensation, exchanging services for goods- namely, Rukia  AU
1. Chapter 1

**Gift Horse**

_Summary_: Sometimes timing is all it takes to change history. Ichigo defeats Ulquiorra to reach Rukia faster, but only after he surrenders control to his hollow. This deviation from the expected timeline changes hands in fate, especially since the hollow demands compensation for his cooperation, exchanging services for goods—namely, Rukia. AU, IchigoxRukia

_Author's Note_: The scene that I take creative inspiration from takes place in _Bleach_ Ch. 268 onwards while Rukia is battling Aaroniero, Ichigo has already been fighting Ulquiorra in full Visored form when he feels her reiatsu crumble. As the plot for this story progresses, it becomes evident that I've taken certain liberties with the canon narrative. It is fairly obvious that I don't own _Bleach_, otherwise I wouldn't be making another wishful story.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Trump Card<strong>

_Rukia was down for the count._

In those moments of fading consciousness, she gritted her teeth against the pain spearing her ribs, but the pain of facing down death in utter stillness hurt much, much more. Rukia bowed her head over her shattered sword, whispering Kaien's words to herself as a mantra, a promise to her nakama. She repeated these words to Renji, who had left her with the Kuchiki house in an unexpected act of self-sacrifice. To Inoue, whose fear of loneliness paralyzed her innate ability. To Ichigo, who dedicated his life to guarding all others at the life-price of his mother, the only life he could not protect. Rukia guarded these friends close to her heart because she too knew how crippling it could be in the dark.

_Don't Die. You must absolutely not die alone, Kuchiki_.

Rukia let out a quiet sigh as she sank bonelessly to her side. Her eyes sealed her off to all the color in the world, submerging her into the fold of a merciful sleep.

* * *

><p>The moment Ichigo felt her reiatsu disintegrate, his heart leapt with a sickening lurch.<p>

"Where are you going?"

Damn. Was that Arrancar still talking to him? Ichigo felt a surge of inexplicable fury as he walked further away from the Espada, his words controlled even as his reiatsu spiked in turmoil, "To save Rukia."

Ichigo's shoulders tensed at Ulquiorra's next words: "Even though I told you she died."

He stopped defiantly with his back to the Espada, "I don't believe you." Ichigo didn't have time for small talk. With each moment, the pulse of Rukia's reiatsu grew weaker still. The buzzing in Ichigo's ears kept him from understanding even the words that came from his own mouth.

Still, these words managed to filter through the static, "… What if I were to tell you that I was the one who brought Inoue Orihime to Hueco Mundo in the first place?"  
>This was the tip of the iceberg. Ichigo leapt forward in lightning speed, bearing down his sword with unnerving strength, which Ulquiorra calmly deflected. "Don't you get it?" Ichigo snarled, "Because of you, Inoue was marked as a traitor!" <em>And because of you<em>, his mind was yelling, _you put Rukia and the others through unnecessary danger! You fucking rat-bastard_!

Something in Ulquoirra's eyes shifted, giving him the illusion of momentary vitality, "Now do you have a reason to fight me?"

Ichigo's mouth stretched into an unholy grin, "Che, do you just _like_ asking stupid-ass rhetorical questions?"

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><p>Orihime dropped her fingers from her face, her expression unchanging as Grimmjow simmered in surly impatience by the door. His scowl hadn't moved after he had watched the human girl those two stupid bitches—useless lapdogs, pretty accessories Aizen kept around for entertainment. What was the use of wasting the energy to create them, and what was the use of saving them? Grimmjow thought the Shinigami and humans were the exact same regarding life. Not Arrancars—they welcomed death into their midst. "Hurry up," he growled, gathering up the girl in his arms, "I've got a shinigami that's just askin' to be skewered." Ignoring the human's flinch, he tied her up for good measure before giving chase.<p>

By the time they had reached him, Ichigo was also down for the count, but with a sizeable hole in his chest. Nearby, a child wailed, babbling nonsense over his body as Grimmjow approached. Orihime could not contain her trembling when the ex-Espada kicked Kurosaki-kun over, and she could see the parting blow Ulquiorra had left on his prey. Her hands shook as she healed the boy, wishing with all her heart that she would reject the hole that marked him like any other ordinary Hollow. His eyes opened, and the sigh of relief Orihime became a choking gasp of horror.

Instead of the amber warmth she had expected, they were a ghastly inversion of red and black. A grey, sly smile haunted Kurosaki-kun's features as he rasped, "Missed me much, Inoue?"

The next few seconds were a blur. Orihime could only see bits and flashes, but it seemed that Kurosaki-kun and Grimmjow both reacted at once. Grimmjow yanked the cord that tied her to the Espada as Kurosaki-kun leapt to his feet and made a slashing motion with his forearm. Orihime felt the sudden pull of gravity as the cord severed, and she fell neatly into Kurosaki-kun's arms. Then, they were both airborn, racing across Hueco Mundo at hairsplitting speed, the sound of wind howling and traces of Grimmjow's colorful cursing ringing in her ears. Unable to contain a blush from spreading over her face, the human girl looked up at Kuro—no, his Hollow, she saw to her astonishment that the planes and angles of his very face were shifting. She couldn't suppress a shiver this time from trailing down her head, shoulders and arms. Kurosaki looked down at her with malicious amusement, and if anything, seemed to tighten his grip on her with what could have resembled a smirk if it didn't seem like his jawbones kept moving under the skin's surface. The color on Orihime's cheeks soon blanched. She couldn't—no, wouldn't—say anything.

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><p>In those moments after Ulquiorra had left Ichigo to die in the sandy terrain of Hueco Mundo alone, Ichigo looked down at the cravity where his heart should have been beating, with skin and flesh to protect it from prying eyes and hands. The Hollow in his mind was howling, and Zangetsu had receded into utter silence. Ichigo felt his reiatsu fade before his eyelids began to droop. He fought the desire to sleep with a chilled panic. <em>Zangetsu<em>! He called, _Old man! Help me out—if I die, you die, too_! His mind suddenly filled with dead quiet before a sick laughter began to echo, ringing in his ears.

_Stupid King_, his Hollow snickered, _In your haste to finish off the Arrancar and get to your little shinigami, you left yourself wide open. Now, you lie there dying to pay penance for your stupid mistakes_.

_Shut up, you sick fuck_! Ichigo shouted, _Now isn't the time to play power games—where is the Old Man? If we die, you go down, too_.

The Hollow stopped laughing, but Ichigo could still _feel_ its sick amusement in the words that rolled out in a purr, _I could also say that if I find a way to stay alive, you do, too_…

Ichigo latched onto those words with boyish desperation: _What do you—why even play with me? If you can, __**do it**__**now**__. _

_That all depends_, the Hollow seemed to sneer, _If we play things my way, you'll have to be content with… loosening the tight grip you rein in on me_.

_Not a chance in hell_, growled Ichigo.

_Then you can just very well die…_

_Go fuck yourself! _

_You may want to think that one through, King._

Ichigo snarled a string of incoherent sounds before he felt his reiatsu decrease to an alarming level. _You don't have much time left, King…_

Ichigo closed his eyes in resignation_, _his mental voice sounding suspiciously close to pleading,_ All I ask is that you save Rukia and keep her alive so we can beat Aizen together. _

His Hollow snorted, _Tall order, that. Are you sure you're in a position to make any requests?_

Ichigo's fingers clenched in a fist to contain his hate, _Just do as I say, and you can have it!_

_It? _The Hollow asked slyly, _It as in your body, or it as in your life, and all the trimmings that come with it?_

The last thing Ichigo remembered was his weak retort, _My body—you'll never have my life_…

_We'll see for ourselves, King…_

* * *

><p>They had arrived in a small, murky cave. If it weren't for the delicate slivers of Rukia-san's reiatsu that resonated from the walls, Orihime wouldn't have known why they chose to stop there. As soon as they landed, Kuro—his Hollow spilled her carelessly onto the ground before flash-stepping over to Rukia's side. Orihime stumbled forward onto her heels in an equally alarming speed, her mouth open in a silent scream, <em>No, don't<em>!

_Don't… touch her. Please, don't hurt her_!

But as she ran over to Rukia-san's side, she watched the Hollow roll Rukia over onto her back with a careful touch that had been noticeably lacking in his treatment of her, and Orihime bit her lower lip to keep the jealousy from flowing. Her running gait halted to a stop as she stood over the pair, watching Kuro—no, his Hollow's fingers skim around the sword wound that had pierced through Rukia-san's torso.

"Get over here," the Hollow ordered gruffly, and Orihime obeyed without a second's hesitation, her hands already stretched out to reject the damage wrought on her friend's petite body. The wounds closed together, the skin gradually appearing whole, but as the healing restored her friend's body, Orihime could see _something shifting_ in Kurosaki-kun's face through the corner of her eye. And… were his eyes changing color? The Hollow's knuckles were drawn white, as if he was trying to contain his body from leaping forward, from pulling forward to…

To do what? Cover Rukia-san? To lay over her? To embrace her? To maim her?

Orihime knew that Hollows were supposed to be a concentration of an individual's most base desires, but she never knew what Kurosaki-kun's Hollow seemed to think of the shinigami woman. Returning her attention to Rukia-san, she saw the faintest stirrings of awareness. She'd find out the answers to her questions, sooner than she'd like to know, perhaps.

Rukia's eyes slanted open, and the first thought that emerged in her mind was, _Where is Kaien-dono_? Then, she looked up to verify the answer, only to gaze into Ichigo's eyes. "I-Ichigo!" Her voice gave out, in a croak. She noticed that there was something off about the boy, his eyes a deeper red than the normal amber brown that warmed his face. His face drew closer, and Rukia noticed that his skin seemed ashen, observing something crawling underneath its surface. She licked her lips in another attempt to speak, and his eyes followed the motion, "What did you… How—?" A sudden movement startled Rukia; Ichigo had gathered her in his arms, pushing Inoue aside, Rukia noticed belatedly. Before she could voice her indignation, his head lowered swiftly, his mouth covering hers in a bruising, punishing kiss. Rukia heard Inoue's gasp, and she fisted the boy's sleeves in an attempt to push him away, but Ichigo overpowered her with his broader shoulders and draped over her like a fur pelt, deepening the kiss. His heat was overwhelming. Despite her best intentions, Rukia's eyelids began to droop. _Traitorous, traitorous body_!

For a few blissful, piercingly painful moments, all was silent in the caves except for the sound of breathing. Then Ichigo slipped his tongue out of her mouth to catch his breath, and Rukia took advantage of the moment.

_Crack_! The sound of her tiny hand slapping his face echoed through the cave.

"Idiot!" She yelled. She didn't need to turn around to witness Orihime's heartbreak. The girl's silence was steeped with the same solitude Rukia had nearly died in, and her fury was fresh at this violation of trust. She lifted her hand to strike again, to punish, even as her heart fluttered still from the warmth of his mouth. The little hand never made contact, swallowed up in Ichigo's stronger fingers, his limbs overpowering her, making her submit.

"Che, now I can see why King likes you," The voice that spoke had a rumble, a mixture of Ichigo's deep tones with a smoky, gritty friction that Rukia recognized at once as his Hollow's, "You're small but you pack a lot of punch for a bitch shinigami. Feisty." He tightened his grip to draw Rukia's resisting body closer until they were pressed flush against each other, "After all, keepin' you around was part of the deal."

Rukia's eyes narrowed, "Keeping who around?"

Ichigo, the Hollow—not quite one or the other, really—ran a finger down her jawline, the smile devious and alive, "King insisted you would face Aizen down with him." Rukia's confused expression grew even more chaotic when she heard him mutter against her ear, "Even if you two do it alone—against all odds, and against the others."

"What?" Rukia gasped, her grip tightening as she lifted her face in a mask of cold resolution, "What do you mean by that? I demand—"

"Rukia."

All three inhabitants in the cave froze. That voice belonged to someone who hadn't left Karakura for Hueco Mundo with them. Ichigo—his Hollow—blast, it would really help to get to the bottom of this split identity, soon—slowly released Rukia from his tight embrace and turned around with a smirk, "Hey there, Byakuya."

"Release Rukia, now."

Rukia didn't notice Ichigo still had a hold on her until she realized that his right hand was wrapped around her elbow, and he had customarily pushed her back, behind him. While this was hardly something to remark upon, she noticed that now, it put Nii-sama on edge. It was obvious that Nii-sama knew that something was up with Ichigo, as well. Byakuya approached the trio with unshakable calm, "Do not try to fool me—I have fought you before, Kurosaki. I can tell you are under the throes of your Hollow now. You should remove yourself from Rukia." The distaste in his enunciation of 'Hollow' was barely detectable; so too were the unspoken words, 'Do not touch her.'

"No." If anything, Ichigo drew nearer. Byakuya stopped, his eyes frozen in disapproval, and something else more primal—was it fear? Ichigo, or the Hollow masquerading as Ichigo, tossed his fiery head, exclaiming, "No, I won't give up my trump card. Not to you, nor all of damn Soul Society!"


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Confession—I write the best late at night, buzzed after a drunken night of carousing. Also, except for the invention of one demon spell that I had to invent for my own purposes, I pulled the proper names from the Bleach Wiki ;)

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: Trojan Warfront<strong>

Byakuya stood very, very still. Then he murmured in an even tone, "This displeases me."

Rukia had a split second to blink before she felt an _immense_ reiatsu surging from her nii-sama. Although she had lived in his household for years, and been exposed to his particular brand of soul energy, Rukia couldn't deny that each time her brother's intent turned towards combat, she feared him. Ichigo felt more than saw Rukia cringe slightly, and unconsciously straightened his shoulders before drawing Zangetsu out with studied nonchalance.

"Rukia, for this _deal_ to fall through, you'd better step back."

Rukia blinked, staring at the back of Ichigo's head. That voice, the reiatsu, and the way he held his body—this was the Ichigo she knew. _Did this mean_…?

In that split second, when Ichigo's attention was divided, Byakuya made his first move. Rukia had been startled herself, so she didn't see him direct his fingers at her. "Bakudo 63," Byakuya intoned with authority, "_Sajo Sabaku_—Locking Bondage Stripes" Rukia felt her weight drop, frozen in a glowing grip. She fell sideways, so her vision was obstructed from the fight, but she could hear Ichigo's growl almost as if he was right besides her. Byakuya avoided the first thrust of Ichigo's blade before he spun, his right arm already thrown out to complete the second spell of the double incantation. "Bakudo 42," he gritted out from between his teeth, exertion nearly distorting his words, "Blinding of Rocks—Way of obfuscation". Rukia knew that nii-sama had cloaked her, distorting Ichigo's vision so he could not see her. Then, she felt the tug of another force pull her to the furthest corner of the cave. _Eishohaki_—a third, unspoken demon spell! Rukia felt her stomach drop. Without her to intervene, this fight could turn bitter, fast. She could feel sweat slip down her back, and began on her incantations, working steadily to break through Nii-sama's bonds. Inoue, who had been so very still once the fighting had started, scrambled over to help her loosen them. Once she raised her hands to touch them; however, she gave a yelp and passed out, unprepared for the sheer level of shock overbearing her innate skill to reject. Rukia bit her lip and struggled against the bindings, knowing she couldn't be able to say anything through the demon spells, yet feeling guilty that harm had come to her friend, regardless.

"Why so hostile, Byakuya?" Ichigo taunted the Shinigami captain, "We always managed to… _tolerate_ each other before."

Byakuya drew Senbonzakura with nary a blink, "I can barely tolerate Kurosaki Ichigo. You, I cannot abide."

Ichigo sneered, "I _am_ Ichigo. Doubt me? If you don't trust Zangetsu by sight, then you'll have trust by _touch_." He swung his blade down heavily, the force enough to push Byakuya out of the cave when he blocked the blow.

Byakuya wielded Senbonzakura, also now in shikai form, "Well, even if they are not one and the same, at least this one shares his sense of unfounded arrogance."

Ichigo's eyebrows slammed downward, and he raced over to Byakuya with a shout, "Stop talking like I'm not here! You sound like a fucking nutcase!"

"I find this ironic. You have lost your sense of self."

Ichigo bristled before forcing himself to relax. Then, he grinned maliciously, "You know what, you're right. Let's not waste time. _Bankai!_"

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><p>Rukia felt a familiar swell of energy jolt the air around her and nearly lost her concentration. Ichigo had already initiated bankai! She swore to herself before resuming her meticulous spellwork—at this point, there wasn't a moment to lose. Rukia ran through the incantations with the familiarity of her academy years, the sweat collecting at her back as she felt the seconds tug past in an excruciating fashion. She didn't know who she feared most for—her brother, or that damnable Ichigo… or whoever it was occupying his body. She felt the first layers of Byakuya nii-sama's obfuscation spell fall away from her when she felt her brother's bankai join the fray.<p>

_Shit_.

"Concentrate, Kuchiki!" She chided herself, unconsciously taking the tone that the late Shiba heir had used on her, those fifty years past. She had no room for failure, no time to waste.

* * *

><p>Byakuya observed the mortal before him. He knew something had infected the boy's body, because the impression he was giving off now was that he was somehow not… <em>human<em>. The boy's technique, reiatsu, the very lines of his face reminded him of the time he had fought him at the trial grounds of Sereitei, but the mask failed to appear. Byakuya barely blocked Ichigo's first blow; the force of it shredded his haori to pieces. The boy hadn't gone animalistic—if anything, his calculative nature had honed sharper. Would this not point to the fact that the boy had not lost control to his Hollow? Still, the sticky, gritty substance that clung to his reiatsu was… unhealthy. Byakuya didn't know what angered him more—the fact that such an aberration was allowed to stand before him and against him, or the fact that he could sense the faintest traces of Rukia clinging to the boy. What exactly had the boy done to seal this 'deal'? Was it a deal made with his Hollow, or Rukia? Complications. Byakuya was aggravated by this turn of events.

Then he saw it. An opening. They had been fighting for nary fifteen minutes, but in full bankai mode—this was hardly a sustainable combat method, and like most opponents, fatigue made them sloppy. Byakuya used _shunpo_ to feint to his right before tucking Senbonzakura firmly by his side, plastered by his torso. He shouted a kido spell over the shrieking air, "Hado 58—_Tenran_! Orchid Sky!"

A vast whirlpool of air flew towards the human boy, threatening his balance and disorienting him midst sword propulsion. Ichigo swore colorfully, to which Byakuya frowned deeply. _Of all the mortals to choose for company, she chose this one_? He glared at Ichigo before initiating his counter-attack, "Senka!"

Ichigo froze, temporarily immobilized. Byakuya then dove in for the blow, "Gokei Senbonzakura Kageyoshi!"

The boy disappeared, completely submerged in the fury of Byakuya's bankai.

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><p>Rukia froze, and then felt anguish, the very last phrase needed to undo her bindings at the tip of her tongue. <em>Unbelievable<em>—the force of her nii-sama's bankai had such overwhelming pressure, and with Ichigo's reiatsu combined, her hair was nearly plastered against her neck with sweat. She diligently worked out the rest of the incantation, forcing her mind to mechanically go through the motions. At this level, this wasn't mere swordplay—by the time she'd free herself, someone would be seriously hurt. She felt the last threads of the bindings loosen at her feet, and stood up creakily. On wobbly ankles, she ran out of the cave, her heart in her throat.

The sand had formed an impenetrable cloud, so thick that Rukia had to shield her eyes. Nervously, she bit her lip as she attempted to scan the sky through her fingers. Then—two figures! Mid-air, one standing firm, and the other… Her heart plummeted as she noticed the hunched figure was Ichigo, his huge blade supporting him as he bled carelessly all over his robe. Nii-sama looked on, his face impassive as Ichigo switched Zangetsu from his right hand to his left.

A glint of teeth, and then a movement so fast!—Rukia felt rather than saw him move.

"Tensa Zangetsu!"

Then, limbs flailing and heart pumping so, so fast, Rukia burst into motion, "No! Ichigo!"

Her scream seemed to echo across Hueco Mundo, adding to the effect of Ichigo's bankai attack bearing down on her brother.

Rukia threw herself recklessly into the fight, not stopping even for the air to clear up. She felt more than heard Ichigo's surprise, but could only think of getting to Nii-sama in time.

She felt her brother intercept the blow for her, deflecting it with much more ease than Rukia expected before he reached for her and…

Suddenly, she was miles away from Nii-sama, out of reach. Ichigo was behind her, around her, even. She felt him _everywhere_. His arms wrapped around her torso solidly and she half-expected him to scoop her up like a sack of rice again. Instead, he crushed her to his chest. She could feel the blood soaking through both of their robes, and she began to voice her protest. Ichigo only had to issue a long, threatening growl before Rukia tensed, and stilled.

Byakuya had caught up, his eyes alight with combat, displeasure and… apprehension.

Rukia could read her brother's eyes, could see that he details he took note of: how Ichigo's hand slung tightly yet naturally around her waist, how she seemed to be plastered against his chest, and blushed at the image they must have been presenting. The blush, if anything, angered her brother more.

"Unhand Rukia," the tone was positively frosty, "I will return her to the Gotei 13 in Karakura."

Ichigo shifted his grip, his hand clenching the fabric at her side, "No."

Rukia saw Nii-sama stiffen before she interjected hoarsely, "Wait!"

Both men stopped to stare at her. She utilized the moment to gently pry Ichigo's grip off her and stand a little aside, between her brother and the human boy to make an uneasy triangle. She turned to bow to her brother first, "Honorable Byakuya Nii-sama," she murmured, ignoring Ichigo's snort, "I respectfully accept your concern, but I cannot go back with you, yet."

Byakuya looked down at her, his expression masked into indifference again, "As your elder and ranking superior, I order you to—"

Ichigo laughed suddenly, cutting Byakuya off, "No, you don't understand. Rukia and I here—we have a deal."

Byakuya turned around, disbelieving, "Rukia, is this true?"

Rukia hedged, her eyes stormy as she contemplated all the things she'd do to Ichigo, once he'd go back to his _normal_, constantly blundering, over-powered human self. "Yes, nii-sama," she lied smoothly, "Although it is not what you think. Ichigo and I…"

_Oh God, she had never lied to Nii-sama before, and certainly not under cross-examination like this!_

"We—ah, made a promise to our nakama! We promised we would all leave together." She hoped this was enough.

Byakuya considered this before shaking his head, "Besides the ryoka girl we left by the cave, the other two are with Renji. I trust they are in good hands. I cannot accept this answer."

Both Kuchiki siblings heard a snort. Byakuya's shouldered stiffened even further, his displeasure grave, and lifted a hand to handle the response, but stopped at the sight the substitute shinigami presented.

Ichigo's mouth slanted into a wan, sharp smile, "S'not true. Rukia's shit at lies."

Rukia looked shaken, her eyes magnetically drawn to Ichigo's reddening eyes. Byakuya made a motion to grab Rukia suddenly when Ichigo struck out again, beating him to her. He was none too gentle, either, shoving her to the ground by his feet, and holding her there with a casual hand to the throat, "Rukia here is my intended gift," he said with a twist of ironic satisfaction curling his lip, "I demand her as recompense for my services to the Shinigami."

Byakuya was beside himself, "Absolutely not! This is intoler—"

"Nii-sama!" Rukia's forceful tone broke through Byakuya's words, "Please respect my request!" She willed her nii-sama to read her eyes. _Have mercy on him. Trust me. I'm the only one who can keep him_… _in check_.

Byakuya was silent for a long moment, his eyes glued to his adopted sister's face. Then he abruptly turned his back and opened a portal, "Very well. I do not like this, but I will grant you this request."

Rukia choked on her surprise, "Nii-sama, are you going back alone?"

Byakuya's motions did not stop their seamless fluidity as he answered, "Kurosaki's usurper is surprisingly informed. He has issued an ultimatum—this requires response from the Chief Commander himself."

Ichigo—or not-Ichigo—rasped out in vindictive humor, "Call it payment for services rendered."

Byakuya's hand stilled for but a moment, but then resumed, "Kurosaki, if I find that Rukia has come to harm—whether by your hand or not—there will be nothing in these three worlds that will keep me from killing you myself."

Rukia trembled at her brother's words. This was not only a Kuchiki vow, but also a statement of fact.

Ichigo tossed his head and smiled insouciantly, "If it comes to that, I'll be ready for you."

Byakuya stood before the re-opened portal, facing the two again with one hand through the portal before he said, "Well?"

Rukia bit her lip in confusion, "Nii-sama?"  
>"Are you coming? We settle the issue face-to-face."<p>

Rukia turned to look into Ichigo's face. Although the unnatural expression stuck, he nodded, and took a step forwards to follow Byakuya through the portal. Byakuya entered first, and Ichigo was carrying Rukia through when they both heard an audible snap, and then felt a stinging force field slam them, making them fall onto their backs. The impact forced the air out of Rukia's lungs, and her eyes teared up. Gasping for breath, she sat up, only to see Ichigo on his feet already, impassively watching the portal close, as she hoarsely choked, "No! Nii-sama!"

_What had happened? Why had the portal rejected them? Did Nii-sama make it safely back to the human world, or was he stuck between dimensions? _

Rukia looked at Ichigo, whose impassive expression inexplicably put her on edge. _Was there something that the thing inside Ichigo knew, and was holding back_?

She didn't have a moment to voice her doubts, because something shifted in the boy's eyes, "So now it's just you and me, Rukia."

Rukia's mouth went dry.

Ichigo looked down at the petite shinigami with a degree of warmth, but a larger portion of amusement, colored with an edge of malice. "Now, now," he chided, "What to do with my gift-horse?" Rukia backed away, unwilling to break eye contact with Ichigo. He took several steps forward. Rukia continued to step back until she stumbled hard over something, surprise coloring her features. She braced herself for impact, her eyes closed, but she met the ground softly. She snapped her eyes open, only to see Ichigo's face almost unbearably close to hers. He laughed, "You make this almost too easy, Shinigami."

Rukia colored and struggled, all sharp elbows and knees, "Let me go! The Ichigo I know would never—"

Not-Ichigo settled his weight over her, pinning her to the sand. He tilted his head over hers and whispered hot words into her ear, "Are you sure? The Ichigo-I-am sure would."

Rukia growled in frustration and hit him on the face, chest and arms, "No! This is not—I will not take this! I—"

His lips were pressed against her ear lobe now, "You don't need to exert yourself—I'll do the taking. How 'bout you concentrate on the receiving?"

Rukia froze. The way he put those words together sounded devious, but they were unfamiliar to her. In Sereitei, they did not have expressions that worked as such, but Not-Ichigo used them with an unmistakable air of innuendo. His mouth, which had been blowing hot air into her ear at his words, made her body shiver in reflex, and Ichigo felt her stir underneath him and went very, very still.

Rukia felt very nervous and vulnerable like this, underneath him, "Ichigo, this is not funny anymore. Can you…?"

Ichigo's nose tickled her hairline, "Can I what, Rukia?"

He inhaled deeply, his voice rumbling with something—laughter? Rukia felt anger supplant her shot nerves and opened her mouth to scold, when she felt something warm and wet slide up her ear lobe. What came out instead was a shocked gasp, "O-oh!" Ichigo pressed his face harder against hers, one large hand pinning her in place, the other caressing the pulse at her neck. Rukia shivered again, her body undergoing flashes of hot and cold. _His tongue_, she thought hazily, as he nuzzled her ear, tracing its shape with his mouth. The effect was similar to the elementary subduing spells she had learned in the academy, giving her a pleasant sensation, as if she were buzzed from drinking one too many a cup of sake. Her hands moved of their own accord, it seemed, clenching at the front of Not-Ichigo's robes to keep her steady on her legs. All she could think about was drawing closer, as close as humanly—or inhumanly—possible. This must have come across to the substitute shinigami as consent, because he gathered her furiously in his arms. All Rukia saw in the split moment was a flash of white—his teeth bared in a sneer—before his lips crashed down on hers. This was no gentle act—Rukia's nose knocked hard against his, and it made her gasp. Ichigo took advantage of the moment, and bit her bottom lip hungrily before swiping his tongue into her mouth. The female shinigami could taste the bitter tang of blood, swept up in Ichigo's mouth as he lapped at her mouth with single-minded vigor. Rukia felt drugged, her body pleasantly thrumming, even as her heart skipped its regular cadence. She condemned her impressionable conscience, and wondered… damn it—she wondered what would happen if she _didn't_ put up a fight, for once. If she let things progress down the path things seemed to take.

A sudden streak of reiatsu caught both shinigamis' notice, and with a gesture that could have almost passed for reluctance, Ichigo nipped the bottom of Rukia's lip before releasing her from his grasp. Rukia knew already what had emerged, crossing the dimensions to communicate to them. There was only one person in all of Seireiten who possessed the ability to utilize _Tenteikura_ across worlds—the Captain-Commander Yamamoto. Although this spell as one of the higher ranked kido incantations required no physical medium, operating instead in the minds of the intended, the Captain Commander was also the only one who could make this spell manifest in material form.

"_Unseated shinigami of the 13__th__ Squad—Kuchiki Rukia... and substitute shinigami, Kurosaki Ichigo…_."

Rukia and Ichigo approached the Hell Butterfly, the intensity of the moment forgotten for the urgency and curiosity that this message provoked. Static broke through the transmission from time to time, so they paid attention to what the Captain-Commander said. Ichigo, however, seemed to be staring at the butterfly intently, as if he were listening through one part of his body, and thinking of ways to tear the butterfly apart with the other.

"_Captain Kuchiki Byakuya has called my attention to rather unusual behavior coming from the human boy_—"

This garnered another snort from the aforementioned boy.

"_He dares to ask for a reward for his service! The first amongst any of the shinigami, let alone a human substitute. However, there is the issue of his very status. Neither of you can confirm that he is wholly human, correct_?"

Rukia suddenly felt a queasy sensation—what had she been thinking before? What had she been doing with this—_non_-Ichigo? What would happen once he regained his senses? An explosion of uncertainty, guilt, and anger filled her tiny body. Ichigo, feeling a sudden surge in his companion's reiatsu, turned to look at her with an impassive face and cold, alien eyes. Then, suddenly, he struck out, his arm a blur—Rukia blinked, and then gasped. Ichigo had crushed the Hell Butterfly in his fist! Muttering a few words that smelled of powder and intense reiatsu, Ichigo made the butterfly in his hands glow a sickly amber, before lowering his mouth to it, "Yamamoto. Kurosaki Ichigo here. I demand, for the past two years of service, and my continued compliance with the Gotei 13, that Kuchiki Rukia be offered as compensation for my agreement to aid the Shinigamis." He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, his mouth curling suddenly in acidic humor, "It's not like you will feel her loss—unranked as she is."

Rukia felt a sharp pang hit her chest. Unprepared as she was for the blow, she felt greater disgust for herself. She should have known this creature was not the Ichigo she knew! He was not the man she had come to trust in her heart. She raised her head steadily, then with a calm gaze that met his, placed her hand carefully over his. She guessed that non-Ichigo had cleverly adapted the Hell Butterfly to relay messages both ways, and that it was now temporarily functioning as an amplifier. She took a deep breath, and spoke, "Captain-Commander, this is Kuchiki Rukia reporting. I have made a deal with both the party here, and my esteemed brother. We have agreed to the terms set, and I will personally be held accountable for what comes to pass in Hueco Mundo in the company of this… _person_." She then dropped her hand quickly from the substitute shinigami's as if it burned her, a bitter taste filling her mouth as she walked away from him. So she was the pawn. So be it—even the lowliest pieces could dance throughout the match.

* * *

><p>Back in Karakura, a T-shirt clad Ichigo hummed as he did his homework in complacent industriousness. Suddenly, the boy stood up, knocking over his chair as he choked, "Kuso!—"<p>

Within the blink of an eye, the boy disappeared, leaving in his stead a careworn stuffed animal sprawled on the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I have had a couple of reviews asking me about or correcting me on the timeline of my story with the canon in mind. THIS IS VERY TRUE! I agree with them, but I am also writing a piece of fan-based fiction that's already an AU (Alternate Universe). I ask my readers to humor me and suspend their disbelief.

I actually care more for exploring the perceived boundaries/limitations of Ichigo's spiritual/corporeal composition than I do faithfully following the timeline. Ichigo is 'Other'; hence, he will always be portrayed in 3rd person, and through the observation of others.

**Chapter 3: Black Pieces Advance**

Hueco Mundo was the stuff of nightmares. It spoke of endless sand stretching far past the horizon, with distant rock arrangements and impossible structures defying any human sense of gravity, jutting into the sky. It resembled one of those dreams of an endless fall down impossible heights, or perhaps the cautionary fable of a child in a foreign landscape, filled with dangers unseen, fortunes untold. Such unrelenting openness decidedly put Rukia at unease.

Rukia was a child of furtive corners, isolated walls, and impenetrable chambers. Although she had initially been left out in the open, Inazuri had been a menagerie of chaos, of cluttered street curiosities, and the tangling of spiritual limbs. Afterwards, Seireitei had been a serene, yet orderly imposition of function and militant operation. The Kuchiki grounds acted as a cornerstone for obligations, formal dignity, and frigid distance. The more contained the space, the more at home Rukia felt—she had after all claimed Ichigo's closet-space without permission, kicking, cajoling and wedging her way into his human life. Those moments, those slivers of time, were the warmest moments Rukia had experienced in the past fifty years. The culmination of the guilt, responsibility, and isolation she felt towards Kaien-dono's death and Ichigo's endangerment knotted at the base of the white execution tower. In her mind, these events were not isolated, but of the same thread, serving as both penance for the life lost, and imprisonment for letting her power loose into the body of a human.

Perhaps, she pondered, perhaps this had been why she had felt such an easy intimacy with the human man-child. Ichigo, in a way, had been marked as her receptacle, a human manifestation of her powers. Or so she had believed at the moment. Urahara and Isshin-san had done a neat job of disproving the Gotei's belief in this matter, and the rest was history.

Now, however, in the unwanted proximity of her erstwhile companion, Rukia felt an undeniable foreignness in him, and could not deny the current of repulsion that threaded through her resentment and misgivings. Before, she refused to enter Ichigo's heart out of respect, to keep these matters sacred until they were both ready to share in the burden together. Now, with Ichigo was as alien to her as the landscape that unraveled before her, she was closing in on herself, erecting barriers, chambers, and traps in the hopes of successfully keeping him out. She was only partially successful.

Even now, as she rode on Ichigo's back, she could not feel removed from him. His heart beat strongly through her. Whether or not its mechanism at this point was human, shinigami or hollow was a hopeless puzzle. She could feel him take every breath, as he raced across the desert terrain. With such a bleak, repetitive landscape, it was easy to drift off to memories, recollections and the deep pools of thought that were often best left unvisited. In Rukia's case, her mind raced back to what had transpired a few days ago. After General Yamamoto had 'arranged' a war contract with Ichigo, the following acts occurred in immediate succession: Ichigo dropped Rukia unceremoniously on the ground, and appeared instantaneously over Inoue, his splintered shadow dancing against the dunes. The human girl had begun to stir from the backlash brought by Byakuya Nii-sama's kido and Rukia's reiatsu. Inoue had opened her eyes—only to shriek in surprise, fear or some combination of both—when Ichigo did a very curious thing. He spread his hands palms-up, the imprint of the Hell Butterfly still marring them, and then placed them on Inoue's shoulders. He appeared to concentrate for a minute, and then Inoue was _gone _in an instant. Rukia had opened her mouth to address Ichigo, when he appeared before her again, scooped her up, and then suddenly, they were _moving_. Rukia warily kept her silence when she observed the reemergence of Inoue's reiatsu alongside Renji's, and that was the last time words were exchanged between the shinigami and the boy. Then, they traveled long distances in superhuman flight.

This was the fifth day in Hueco Mundo, according to the time-keeping devices the Research Department had lent to Rukia, Renji, and Byakuya, meaning that she had been traveling with not-Ichigo for two full days across the wilderness. She looked over at the boy, and considered her situation. She knew that the Gotei were undoubtedly locked in battle with the remaining Arrancars, and she also knew that Renji was still with Ishida, his reiatsu floating nearby. She could feel Chad and Inoue's reiatsu not far off, and shivered, knowing that Inoue by now had told the others of what had transpired with Ichigo.

"We'll stop here," slurred not-Ichigo, "Poor thing, your body's all cramped up."

Rukia glared. He had come to a heart-stopping halt and dumped her on the sand again. He was currently looking down at her with a leer, looking like the very image of menacing ease. He knelt before her, one arm reaching for her. Rukia froze, her eyes locked onto his outstretched hand—the palm still bearing the ashes of Yamamoto's butterfly—unfurling to reach one of Rukia's stray locks of hair. She looked up at the boy to see a look of curiosity cross his face.

"Why would spirit particles ever care to put such detail into a spirit's body?"

The hand, that was twirling the strand of hair, traversed over to her collarbone.

"Why bother with a pulse?"

Rukia looked up into Ichigo's face, because that was who he was at the moment, the line of his jaw severe yet unlocked as he stroked the skin of her neck. Rukia swallowed compulsively, refusing to break her gaze from Ichigo's as she watched the black and burnished metal bleed away from the boy's eyes.

"Ichigo," she croaked, "_What is going_ _on_?"

The fingers stroking her neck curled around it, tightening into a grip, "Never mind that. Just follow through like a good shinigami, and Byakuya will be none the wiser."

Rukia choked, placing her slender hands over his, attempting to pry it off her throat, as she hissed, "Have you lost track? Lost sight… of what… needs to be done in Hueco Mundo?"

Not-Ichigo released the grip on her throat with one hand, and caught her easily with the other, the arm slouching loosely around her waist. He seemed to consider her words for a second as she caught her breath before tossing his head back in laughter, "Inoue? Did you ever think it was really about Inoue?"

Rukia felt her heart ache for the girl. This jeering, unhesitating dismissal—she was suddenly glad that Ichigo had sent her to Renji. Her anger followed in quick succession: "How could you be so cruel?"  
>A red smile split his features, lit up with eyes full of black and copper. She was <em>not<em> afraid. Rukia pressed on, almost shouting, "You must know what you _mean_ to her! Why string her along, allow her to make such a sacrifice, and why play with her emotions, if she could be safer and none the wiser back in Karakura?"

The arm that bound her to him tucked her in closer. Ichigo looked down at her with something akin to triumph, but the expression was too raw and hungry to imply the satisfaction that often accompanies such victories.

"And why should you care, little shinigami… _little woman_?"

Rukia simmered at his words of condescension. She could hear her pulse beat in her head. She blinked angry tears away and spoke soft, bitter words, "Because this is not the man I know in my heart."

Not-Ichigo placed a hand just above her left breast, "This organ betrays you. _It_ recognizes _me_."

Rukia closed her eyes, resigned to let this round pass.

* * *

><p>In another dimension, General Yamamoto considered the turn of events. As a seasoned warrior, he considered the long-term tactical motions even as he engaged in battle. Why else would centuries' worth of experience prove an advantage? He considered every player within his realm of understanding, and often made tactical allowances for those that emerged beyond. Hollows, rogue Shinigami, Vizards—when such potential threats introduced unpredictable occurrences, Yamamoto had observed and strategically made his moves. This Kurosaki lad; however, was proving to be a bit of a wild card. How would a human boy <em>know<em> to make war negotiations? He somehow doubted the child was tutored on the subject, considering that Isshin had labored to keep his children in the dark. If Kurosaki weren't so young in both human and spiritual standards, he would have offered him captaincy within the blink of an eye, inner Hollow not withstanding. The battles engaged in Karakura were oddly reflecting those made in Hueco Mundo in an eerie parallel that his shinigami reported upon once they had infiltrated the alternate dimension. Kuchiki had noted once that Kurosaki had somehow made the elements dance to his _sheer will_. Yet, this sense of poetic justice would bode ill for the fate of both Seireitei and the human world if victory hinged upon a mortal hybrid's personal sense of justice.

A flutter suddenly caught his attention. Another death butterfly, this time from Urahara. If Urahara was not in Karakura anymore, that meant he had returned to his reserve laboratories. This in turn meant that Seireitei desperately needed reinforcements. Yamamoto scanned the battlegrounds in fake Karakura, noting the progress of his captains and lieutenants. So far, the matches were even, with the scale tipped slightly towards the Arrancar. This wouldn't do. It was time to reclaim Karakura.

The aforementioned ex-captain had just leapt across dimensions through his custom-made portal when he received a Hell Butterfly from Kurosaki Isshin. Urahara Kisuke scratched his forehead in consternation when the ghostly message emerged, "Matte, matte—the Kurosakis always spell trouble."

As if the family name triggered the message, the Hell Butterfly unfolded, its powdery contents manifesting Isshin's voice. A trace of humor lacing his words by habit, but the urgency fueling them was unmistakable: "Kisuke, be sure to stop by my humble abode, as you've neglected your monthly visit! Kon in particular can use your help…"

Kisuke sighed, tipping his hat back, "What a drag! A defective mod-soul is all that stands between me and a reunion with Yoruichi." Swinging his cane, he popped open a capsule he usually kept in his pocket and a large carpet spilled out of the vapor. Hopping onto it, he smiled obliquely, "Ah well, the people of Karakura are so needy—they beckon and I obey!"

Halfway across town, Dr. Kurosaki stared down at the inert Mod-soul with heavy features not unlike his son's. He mused over the possible hypotheses for Kon's sudden unconsciousness, wondering what external circumstance could have 'shut him down' so to speak. He had some niggling clues from past events that led to direct conclusions about the ever-changing state of his son's soul, but how could the process Ichigo was undergoing affect his mod-soul from across dimensions? Beyond the multiplicity of Ichigo's identity as a being from all three dimensions, the mobility of his soul would have to be strong enough to withstand the various laws and forces that govern each dimension. This ultimately meant that his son was a _conduit_. The chances were slim, since the last time a conduit walked the earth, she had effectively set the barrier between Hueco Mundo and Earth, closing one chapter of human existence from primordial chaos into that of ordered civilization. If that was the case, then Ichigo presented a change that was much larger than the Winter War, or even the survival of Seireitei itself. At first, Isshin had considered his son's classmate Inoue Orihime as the possible conduit. The nature of these recent upsurges, the great discrepancy between Aizen's power in Hueco Mundo and the spare economy of Seireitei had both ex-captains up at night, considering the options. When Orihime had been kidnapped, he was certain that she, with her healing ability to reject time, was the conduit. Now, he was not so sure. Isshin kept such thoughts to himself. After all, much of the basis of his thoughts came from stories and myths swapped amongst the Royal Guard. He'd wait until he could get an expert's advice.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back in Hueco Mundo, Aizen's prize was currently scouring the arid sands for signs of activity. Lieutenant Abarai, Sado-kun, and Ishida-kun flanked her on both sides, their masculine protectiveness a familiar comfort.<p>

"Ishida-san!" Orihime exclaimed, "I feel a shift in energy a few kilometers ahead…"

Ishida Uryuu nodded, and Renji shrugged, "Even if it is a portal set up by Seiretei, we can't leave Rukia and Ichigo behind…"

Ishida shifted his glasses uncomfortably, his jawline implacable. Inoue looked down at her sand-dusted shoes and murmured, "Even if Kurosaki-kun _is_ somewhat different, I trust him to take the very best care of Kuchiki-san!"

Renji looked at his companions helplessly, his eyebrows slanted in consternation, "As much as I would _like_ to trust that Ichigo has full control, the reality is that Rukia is stuck with an unstable being, and her livelihood depends on a person whose very existence is subject to the elements here in Hueco Mundo."

A moment of distillation swept over the ragtag team. If Chad had his own hunches on the whole ordeal, he wasn't voicing them. He peered down at his team, his eyes calm and lucid.

Ishida shook his head violently, "As much as Kurosaki is an utter idiot, the readings I pick up on his reiatsu cannot lie. We perceive the energy fields in Hueco Mundo as aggressive influencers, but with Kurosaki, this is not the case."

His other companions turned to him, their eyes imploring the telling of another tale. Ishida continued, "Kurosaki is shifting at such an accelerated rate that he _appears_ to be volatile to us, yet it could very well be that he is still deciding on the nature of his spiritual ore. It may be the case that Kurosaki is deciding for himself how much of his individual makeup is Shinigami, human or…"

The foursome then completed in thought what Ishida could not bear to utter in words aloud.

A few moments passed in morbid contemplation before Renji stretched, yawning violently, "Yare yare, if anyone were to have a say in Ichigo's character, it would be Rukia. Let's not waste energy on bothersome worrying; we need to get Inoue back to Karakura."

Orihime glanced at him, her face torn between concern and jealousy, "What if Kurosaki-kun were to require my healing skills?"

Renji cut her off with an almost brutal gesture, "No need for that."

Ishida scowled, "What he means is that Kurosaki will know when the mission is accomplished, and Kuchiki-san would be sure to make him follow suit." He picked up speed, noting, "The sooner we leave Hueco Mundo, the sooner we can deal with Kurosaki personally, on our own terms."

Orihime nodded fervently, jogging to catch up with her companions. Still, she looked over her shoulder, sending up a wish: _Please keep Kurosaki-kun safe…_

* * *

><p>"It's about time—I was nearly ready to call it quits!"<p>

Urahara shrugged apologetically, his mouth stretched into a grin, "Mou, Isshin-san it's not like I've kept you waiting for long. This carpet moves faster than the average human automobile!"

Isshin snorted loudly, "You lazy ass, it's not like you couldn't have flash-stepped over here in half the time!"

Isshin smirked slyly, "Its not so much about the speed as it is about the presentation. Surely years in the Royal Guard taught you at least this much."

Suddenly, the two old friends stood preternaturally still. "Alright, you can show yourselves… we've been aware of your presence from the start!"

Hirako Shinji stepped out of the shadows, his Cheshire cat grin all the more sinister by lamplight, "I hear that Soul Society is midway through war with Aizen's forces. With Kurosaki out of commission, so to speak, I come to offer my services out of a… lingering sense of twisted loyalty."

Isshin stilled, but Urahara smiled warmly, "Such an unexpected about-face! What prompted this initiative?"

Shinji smiled mysteriously, "Let's just say that the Vizoreds find it favorable that the entire outcome of the Winter War rests on the shoulders of a renegade human-Hollow hybrid…"

Isshin sighed, and then flourished an arm in an outward gesture, a Death Butterfly imprint collecting at the palm of his upturned hand, "Well, it can't be helped then. It's time to contact my wayward son."

The mark glowed for mere fractions of a second before sounds of static filled the air.

"What?" Ichigo positively growled, "Don't you see I have my hands full with her Kuchiki-ness?"

The three men in Karakura hid their smiles. "Ichigo," Isshin boomed, "Is that any way to greet a father? What about the honorifics, the obeisance, the formal etiquette?"

"Fuck that," snarled Ichigo.

"Mind your tongue," cooed Urahara, "Do you really kiss Rukia with that same mouth?"

Whatever speculations they had about who—or _what_—would be at the receiving end of the butterfly messenger soon dispersed as they saw Kurosaki Ichigo's face turn a customary shade of strawberry. The sound of a frigid silence filled the transmission before Urahara crowed, "Ah! And you are carrying Kuchiki-san with you! What a coincidence!"

Ichigo scoffed, "Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Geta-Boshi."

Shinji shifted, his eyes shining underneath his dirty blonde bangs, "Ichigo, I know our training was cut short, but it is imperative that you listen to me when I say—"

"I know, I know," Ichigo cut in brutally, "The thing is, I don't give a flying fuck."

The adults stood in silence as the sound of Ichigo's laughter filled the transmission, "From now on, I'm telling you what I'll do, and you can sit back and enjoy the show."

Isshin merely shook his head, "Son, I wouldn't get so cocky if I were you…"

Ichigo snarled, "What are you talking about?"

Urahara cocked his head to the side, his words coy and unctuous, "There's just the simple matter of your mod-soul falling out of commission."

Ichigo stared down at them in consternation, his brows slamming down on his forehead, "What the hell—"

Urahara interrupted smoothly, "It means that your situation is no longer something we consider simple, if it ever was to begin with. The very nature of your threefold existence is forcing your soul to undergo dimensional permutations. In other words, your soul is solidifying, making a decision based on how long you prolong your exposure to Hueco Mundo. The longer you stay there, the less likely your soul will find compatibility with a Shinigami-manufactured mod-soul."

* * *

><p>Orihime felt like she had been on the run forever, even when it had been a matter of days. Not only that, but she kept looking over her shoulder, a sinking sensation settling in her stomach to fuel her paranoia.<p>

"What is it, Inoue?"

Chad had been the one to speak up, his eyes gleaming beneath russet curls, "Do you sense it, too…?"

Chad and Orihime, whose talents had always been _Other_, found that they could pick up on signals faster than a Quincy and a Shinigami, their gifts of natural observation dovetailing with their unique talents. Renji and Ishida paused, their bodies stiffening suddenly, "I think it's someone who—"

A blur of white and cerulean flashed in the periphery of Orihime's vision. Suddenly, a growl filled the air as a command for Cero blasted through the dunes. The sound of wind whistling merged for a split second with the hoarse shouting of the men around her, and then all turned to blissful darkness.

Grimmjow descended upon the unconscious rescue team, his face frozen into a plaster of boredom. "Che," he growled, "At least that hybrid brat would've put up more of a fight. The least I could do to avenge Ulquiorra is to whoop his ass." Looking down at the unconscious human girl for a second, he studied her features with dispassionate eyes. He lifted her none too gently and slung her over his shoulders. Then, he flickered out of sight.


End file.
